


that's our time for today

by kerrykins



Category: Big Little Lies (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Mutual Pining, fiction&femslashevent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 15:16:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20229985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerrykins/pseuds/kerrykins
Summary: Celeste and Dr. Reisman have been dancing around the elephant in the room for quite awhile.





	that's our time for today

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elle_nic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_nic/gifts).

> for elle, lit rally the love of my life,,, thank u for enduring my big little bullshit and watching the whole damn show, your efforts are very much appreciated and ily
> 
> here is a fic abt ur therapy wives uwu

Celeste stared at the paintings hanging on the wall of the Dr. Reisman’s office, not really registering the lines and curves of ink and watercolour. Her therapist’s voice was velvet smooth like the plush blankets gathered on the couch, quiet but powerful. “How did your case go?”

“Amazing,” Celeste breathed out. “I’m so thankful, that I got so lucky and managed to win custody.”

“It wasn’t luck, Celeste.” Dr. Reisman tilted her head at her, looking at Celeste with something like awe. “That was you. You won custody, all by yourself. You’re smart and capable and I cannot allow you to downplay that.” She tucked a stray lock of dark hair back behind her ear, her soulful, attentive gaze unwavering for even a moment.

“Well,” Celeste began, colour rising to her cheeks for reasons unbeknownst to her. “I couldn’t have done it without the support of so many people— my friends, my sons, and you. Gosh, if it wasn’t for you, I can’t even imagine where I would be right now.” As soon as the words left her lips, Celeste knew they were true, despite how awfully corny it sounded. Would she still be with Perry? Would she even still be alive?

Dr. Reisman looked surprised at first, then chuckled softly as she shook her head. “No, no, none of that. It takes real courage to do all that you’ve done, not to mention you’ve come out in one piece.” She reached out to take Celeste’s hand in hers briefly, her touch as warm and gentle as Celeste would have expected.

“You know, when I was in court—”

“Yes?”

“—they asked me why I hadn’t been honest with you and I... I said it was because I so wanted for you to believe that I was making progress. And I’m sorry for hiding so much from you, like Bonnie and the boys and all the one-night stands.”

Dr. Reisman was shaking her head again. “You had your reasons, I know. Therapy is a process and I never expect complete honesty from my patients, at least at the beginning. You’re doing just fine, though I do hope you decide to share more in the future. It’ll help me help you, and that’s a win for everyone, isn’t it?” Her lips pulled into a small smile that tugged at something deep within Celeste, kindling a warmth that was achingly familiar but also so, so new.

“And that’s our time,” Dr. Reisman said, breaking Celeste out of her reverie. “I’ll see you next week, same time— unless something else comes up?”

“That works just fine,” Celeste reassured her before rising to her feet. “And again, thank you.” She daringly brushed her fingers to Dr. Reisman’s exposed wrist, torn between a handshake or a simple nod of acknowledgement. Neither seemed apt.

To her great surprise, Dr. Reisman squeezed her shoulder and took her in what could almost be called a hug. “I look forward to next week.”

Celeste’s skin grew hot and cold all at once, though not in a bad way. “Same here.” She awkwardly waved at the brunette woman before stepping out the door. But as she climbed into the car and fastened her seat belt, she swore she could still feel the therapist’s eyes on her.

___

Celeste both dreaded and anticipated her next session with Dr. Reisman. She told Madeline so.

“Your therapist?” Madeline asked in disbelief. They were having another one of their parked car conversations in the lot near the beach, the crashing of waves barely audible through thick glass windows. Celeste had come to think of these meetings as their own kind of therapy sessions.

“I know it’s bad. And I know the right thing to do would be to get a new therapist, but Dr. Reisman is a really good fit for me.”

Madeline sighed and rested an arm on the dashboard of her steering wheel. “Jesus. I’m gathering that you don’t have a plan, then.”

“Alas, I do not. I mean worst comes to worst, we just do this,” Celeste gestured to the car, “but on a more regular basis.”

Madeline raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “If I become the therapist in this friendship, I think we can both agree that would be insane. Babe, I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but I fucking suck at advice. Besides— this is more of a glorified gossip sesh.”

“So what do you think I should do?”

“Well... keep the therapist, I guess. It’s not like you have a deluge of options here.”

Celeste sighed and leaned her head back against the headrest. “Fuck.”

“Pretty much,” Madeline chirped, before popping the last of her vanilla scone into her mouth.

___

Celeste showed up to her appointment on the dot, not a moment later or earlier. Dr. Reisman greeted her with an easy smile and invited her to have a seat. Rather than take her customary place at the couch opposite the therapist, Celeste settled into the chair beside her.

Their eyes met when she did but neither commented on it. It just felt so natural, as if Celeste had been meant to sit here this whole time.

“What do you want to talk about today?” Dr. Reisman inquired. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, hands unusually restless as they roamed over the arms of a leather chair. Yet her expression betrayed nothing.

Celeste truly didn’t know what to say, choosing instead to study the floor as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. 

The therapist cleared her throat. It was something so small, so seemingly trivial, that Celeste nearly didn’t notice it. “How are your sons coping?”

“Better,” Celeste murmured, suddenly shy. “I mean, I haven’t gotten any calls from the school recently concerning their behaviour. So I’d consider that a win.”

“Sure sounds like one.”

Silence enveloped the both of them, neither comfortable nor natural. Celeste fidgeted a bit in her seat but tried not to make it too obvious, all while averting Dr. Reisman’s eyes.

“I’m concerned that our relationship has taken an... unprofessional turn.”

At those words, Celeste’s blood ran ice cold. “How so?”

“I take full responsibility for this,” Dr. Reisman continued. “It’s difficult not to get attached to patients, especially ones that I have known for so long, worked so closely with. Nevertheless, I should know better.” She paused, looking unsure of herself. “I can get you in contact with some of my colleagues, whom I believe would be a good fit for you.”

“I don’t— I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I’m perfectly content with you as my therapist and I really can’t envision myself seeing anyone else.”

“Celeste,” Dr. Reisman sighed. “I cannot treat you properly like this. Emotional involvement removes all objectivity from the equation, I’ll be prone to rash judgements, and I won’t be able to help you. This will be our last session together, I suggest we make the most of it.”

Celeste wanted to say something in retaliation, to say she was wrong. But as a lawyer she knew the bounds of professionalism were not something to be crossed, that there were grave consequences for breaking these rules. As a person however, she didn’t want to lose the only constant in her life, the therapist that had literally saved her.

“I’m truly sorry,” Dr. Reisman murmured in that soft, melodic way of hers. “You’re free to pop in every now and then to say ‘hi’ but that’ll be it.”

Celeste’s stomach churned unpleasantly but she nodded all the same. “Got it.”

“It’s not personal.”

“But it is, isn’t it?”

“It’s a matter of following the  _ Ethical Principles of Psychologists.”  _ Dr. Reisman leaned in, now dangerously close. Celeste could make out every fleck of gold in her eyes, the grey in her hair, hear the shallowness of the other woman’s breaths.

Dr. Reisman’s gaze darted all over Celeste’s face, hesitant and afraid. But before either of them could pull away, their lips met in the demurest of kisses, soft and tender and bittersweet. When they reluctantly withdrew, Dr. Reisman studied Celeste for a long minute.

“And that’s our time for today.”


End file.
